comin' on to the overload

[doyoulikecake]

[OOC: Okay, so the first section is a bit tailored and QUITE timey-wimey, as I'm not actually sure what day the Mio & Roxis meetings went down. But feel free to have it be backdated, forward-dated, not-actually-on-the-same-day-as-each-other-at-all, etc. To Kaden, it'll have happened on the same day, but I doubt that anyone's going to be like 'so

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[sophicsulphur]

Iris makes it into the coffeeshop right on time-- or at least, she thought she was on time. Apparently she's a few minutes later than she planned on being, as the other two-thirds of their party are already there.

A two-thirds she hadn't been expecting. She shoots a rather pointed glance at Kaden, one that says, loud and clear, what she can't say out loud: What is he doing here? Oh, yes, she'll be having words with him later about that. She had not been expecting a guest

[strivingupward]

Roxis doesn't do a good job of hiding the fact that he's shocked at her introduction. It's not the formality that surprises him; it's the honour with which she's according him. She's a Fortner, after all. An unexpectedly clean and unscarred young woman, but a Fortner all the same.

No, he didn't expect her to be so clean. He didn't really understand Kaden's comment about "letting alchemy fall to the wayside". If you're an alchemist, you always practice.

The faint tinge of energy hanging about her matches the spirit-man he's been talking to, however. To Roxis, Kaden is a kind of sprite: tiny, powerful, and glittering with otherspecies magic, and clearly bound up with this girl. Iris's "assistant" might be the word he'd use, if it had the same connotation of someone whose direction you follow that the equivalent word in Roxis's own language often carries. Someone who assists your own goals, always and every step of the way, but by telling you what to do

[doyoulikecake]

Kaden, when Iris comes in and makes that face at him, simply puts on a complete look of innocence. He couldn't possibly have set this up. Why would he ever do such a thing? Roxis definitely just happened to need a place to sit. ...and pick the most cluttered table in the place. Never mind that Kaden's exchange with Roxis in the journals is definitely public as can be, so if she really wanted she could go back and read through it

[sophicsulphur]

She can't help but smile a little at how much Roxis is tripping over himself, but there's an element of wryness in that smile. She's pretty soon that once he's aware of what's become of her, that honour won't remain for very long. "Please, sit down," she urges kindly, in lieu of out and saying that straight away. "--I promise I won't keep you long

aaaand Babeltag. Oh Babel. T__T <3333

[sophicsulphur]

Iris doesn't have all that much reason to be in the Kashtta anymore, aside from work. And today is not a work day. But occasionally she does swing back this way anyway, just to catch up with old friends, see who's hanging out. The Kashtta's a kind of community she doesn't get as much of over at Kaden's, and even if she was only there a few months, she still feels kind of like she belongs. It was her set of training wheels for this city, and she's still a Wanderer. It's still her place, in a way.

She was going to head over to the kitchens, see if anyone was making up food. She could do with a snack and a chat, maybe. But then there's a Babel, right in the lobby, and that stops her right in her tracks.

"Hey! Babel!" she calls excitedly. She bounds on over to the other girl, grinning all over her face. "Whatcha doin'? Making a poster?" She picks up one of the stray sharpies that are rolling about the floor. Some of them have already migrated around the back of the potted plants. "Can I help?"

[allmydiredreams]

Babel looks up and grins when Iris calls her name out, staring up at her from her place on the floor. She's been busy inexpertly drawing just about anything she feels -- she hasn't really opened herself up, but there are enough people in the Kashtta that some stories slip through in their bodybeats. So the mural is a little full of things like angels and demons and violence and displacement, but it somehow works together in Babel's inexpert drawing

[sophicsulphur]

Iris laughs as the sharpie rolls away, collecting up a few of the others that have scattered before plopping herself down next to Babel and leaning into her shoulder. She can do that, with Babel. It feels normal. Easy.

"Recording," she repeats, glancing over the paper. She notices some of the winged people, and something that might just be a coffee shop exploding, though it's a little hard to tell. "People's stories. I was there," she says, pointing to the explosion-squiggle-thing. "Or at least I think I was."

She wonders what it is that makes people quiet, and what makes them loud. She wonders if Babel can hear her. "Am I quiet?" she asks. "Or am I loud?"

[allmydiredreams]

Babel tucks an arm around Iris when she leans on her shoulder, sticking the sharpie she'd been holding in her mouth. She nods when Iris points to the coffeeshop. "It explodes a lot," she says, moving the sharpie to the corner of her mouth like a cigar. "I was shot in it once."

She considers, at the question, the sharpie making a sharp angle upward toward her nose and catching on a stray piece of hair in her face. Iris is strong, though she's never considered whether or not the other was loud or quiet. "In-between," she says, after a moment. "Most of the steps are loud, but not as loud as they could be. There's quiet underneath, where you strive for the gods."

[starryeyed_cass]

Cassie’s out for a walk. She’s just trying to get some air having spent a great deal of the actual holidays cooped up indoors where it’s warm. She’s also spent a great deal looking through the photo album Santa left her. It’s been a long period of crying tears of both sadness and joy - but she’s managed to get it out her system. She feels better now.

She notices the angel smoking and the backpack and looks up to realise they’re at a bus stop. She looks back at him curiously, well - she’s always ready to speak to people. Besides, he’s on his own - and that makes her kind of sad.

“Hey there,” she says softly with a smile, “Going on a trip somewhere?”

[godtooksides]

He's feeling well enough not to jump, though he does look up and stare at her for slightly longer than he probably should. He's trying to make sure that she was talking to him and not someone else. Not that there's a whole lot of other people waiting at the stop right now; at least, they're not waiting outside in the cold, but he really needed a cigarette and he's going to be enclosed in a bus for a day. He'd rather be outside as much as he possibly can before that. Yay, claustrophobia.

"Yeah," he says when he's determined that yes, she is talking to him. He takes another suck on his cigarette, then shrugs. "Getting the fuck out of dodge."

[starryeyed_cass]

Cassie just stands there, smiling faintly as he stares at her. It's bordering on awkward until he actually speaks - but she doesn't let it show. She tilts her head slightly at the 'dodge' mention, she's not heard a phrase like that before - but guesses it's just his was of getting out of Chicago.

"I don't blame you," she tells him with a nod, "Chicago's just chaos a lot of the time. I would leave too, but I wouldn't know where to go since I don't know anyone,"

She shrugs, still smiling, "You should go find yourself somewhere nice, without any rifts,"

[godtooksides]

He huddles a little farther into a ball -- what, it's cold -- and gives her an almost-half-smile before inhaling more tar-filled death from his cigarette. Normally, he'd be worried about making this one last as long as he could, but he has an entire case of them. He's pretty sure Jessi left them for him, even though she said she was going out of town. It wasn't as if he regularly looked at the mantle. They could have been there for days, for all he knew.

"Fuck, it's not-- it's not Chicago," he says. Even though really, it is Chicago, in a way. Though mostly, it's him. "I just fuckin' can't stay here. Just pick--just picked some fuckin' town and got a ticket." Another cigarette drag. "Doesn't fuc--doesn't have to be nice."

For all the profanity, he actually sounds quite amiable about the whole thing. Getting out really is the best thing he can do, he thinks. Get out and start over. He didn't come here for a life, he came here for salvation, and he fucked that all to hell. Chicago will be better when he's gone.

[designed2kill]

Luka is lurking around in the Kashtta today too. There's people there, movement, mindfeelings. Her apartment feels too quiet lately. And there's one particular mindfeeling in the Kashtta's lobby that Luka hasn't felt for a long time.

"Babel!" Luka cries out, running over to her. "I haven't seen you in a long time. I learned how to bake cookies, so I made you some as a Christmas present." Luka takes off her backpack and ruffles through it, pulling out a slightly mashed bag of cookies and a card with Babel's name written on it in pink sparkly pen.

[allmydiredreams]

Babel looks up with an owlish expression when her name is called out, though she can feel who it is almost immediately. She just happens to have a Sharpie in her mouth again

[designed2kill]

"Rooms of people," Luka says softly. "All the people have gone away lately. The bright mindfeelings are gone." Apparently, hanging out with Babel makes Luka talk like Babel.

"Do you want hot chocolate?" she asks. "I learned how to make that too. Hot chocolate and cookies go together really well."

[allmydiredreams]

Babel tilts her head. "Not all of them gone," she says. "Sometimes out, but never completely gone." She's still munching a cookie as she says it, because Babel can't talk with her mouth empty if she has food in front of her or something.

She raises her eyebrows at the offer of hot chocolate, then nods vigorously. "We can have a hot chocolate and marker party," she declares, scooping all the markers near her into a little pile. She picks out a eye-searingly pink one and writes in her large, sloppy handwriting: "BE RIGHT BACK :D" across an empty section of the paper. And then she's standing, waiting for Luka to lead her to said delicious hot chocolate.

[trappedbyhate]

And, promptly at five 'til one, Mio walks into the coffeeshop Kaden's at carrying a box of extremely pretentious handmade artisan chocolates. We're not talking See's or even Godiva here. This is some level of pretentious even beyond that.

"Hello, Minoru," Mio says. "Happy new year. These are for you." She holds out the box to Kaden, not sure where to put it down considering the sheer amount of stuff on the table.

[doyoulikecake]

Kaden stands up as soon as she's at the table, though he'd seen her enter the coffeeshop and made no move. It's less out of politeness than it is out of sheer necessity, but even if his table hadn't been totally covered in stuff he probably would have stood. He still doesn't know what this relationship will yield, if anything. Mio certainly seems to be an interesting character, something to crack as much as anyone is, and he recognizes her outer mannerisms. They were brought up in similar circles, he suspects, those of the very rich and image-conscious

[trappedbyhate]

"Oh, I couldn't very well come empty-handed," Mio says blithely. No really, she couldn't have. It's almost against her nature to show up to a meeting like without at least bringing something

[doyoulikecake]

They're mostly boring old psych textbooks, Mio -- though that's probably hardly boring for either party present, here. Some of them aren't so much textbooks as scientific journals, specifically from the Angel of Knowledge Board of the Sciences and other related supernatural-only publications. Most of the stuff he's been looking through have to do with trauma-based psychosis in supernaturals, but it's hard to tell a lot of that by the names of the journals or anything